


I've been dreaming

by Porcelainduck



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Spell Failure, Watford Seventh Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porcelainduck/pseuds/Porcelainduck
Summary: Simon's had a long day, and he's just sick of Baz's shit. So he does what any mage would do (any mage other than Simon Snow), and casts a spell on him. Suffice it to say, Simon's magic is as temperamental as ever, and only one thing will save Baz from this particular spell.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152





	I've been dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wrote this because I couldn't get that Enchanted song out of my head lol

**Simon**

I walk into - well, okay, I  _ storm _ into - the room. I've had a shit day, and I don't exactly feel like doing anything but collapsing onto my bed and falling asleep in peace. As usual though, Baz has other plans.

"Watch it, you  _ can _ break door hinges you know." Baz says coolly. He doesn't even look up from his book, which makes him all the more infuriating. He pretends like he doesn't care, and he probably doesn't, but  _ why _ does he  _ have _ to make a comment about  _ everything _ ? 

I grunt. Which I know makes me sound like a wild animal, but frankly, I don't really care. Baz is lying on his bed, his book held above his head. It's October, and cold, and he isn't even wearing his blazer. In fact, he's barely even wearing his shirt. Well, he  _ is _ , but the sleeves are rolled up to show his forearms, the top few buttons are undone, and his tie is nowhere to be seen.

"Since you seemed to have  _ missed  _ the memo, Snow, I feel it my duty to inform you that human language has evolved since the cavemen." He still hasn't looked over at me, but I continue to glare at him as I sit down heavily on my bed.

"Just fuck off." I say bluntly. Because I can. The anathema doesn't stop  _ verbal _ abuse.

Baz looks over, finally, and cocks an eyebrow. "What's got your knickers in a twist?  _ Still _ not back together with Wellbelove?" He smirks, and I snap. Before I know it my hand is clenched around the wand in my pocket and I say the first spell I can think of that will get him off my back.

" **_I've been dreaming!_ ** " I shout, and before he even has time to react, his book drops onto his chest, and he's fast asleep.

I don't know why I did it. Well, I know  _ why _ , but it's not what I usually do. Usually when Baz (or anyone else, but  _ usually _ Baz) is making me angry I just go off, or summon my sword. I suppose my training to  _ use my words  _ has finally paid off, because for the first time I actually cast a spell. I cast a spell,  _ and _ it was a harmless one. 

**_I've been dreaming_ ** isn't a particularly advanced spell. It's mostly used by fed up parents whose kids refuse to go to sleep. It's a simple spell, and all it does is send whoever the spell was cast upon to sleep for a few hours. People often associate it with the  **_true love's kiss_ ** spell, mostly because they're from the same song, but  _ also _ because they are opposite spells. By itself,  **_true love's kiss_ ** is a fairly useless spell, and when cast just wakes the person up from their sleep. But it can also be an extremely powerful spell, when used correctly. When the spell is paired with a kiss, not a kiss of  _ true love _ \- since true love is a myth - but a kiss where both the recipient and the giver both love each other romantically, the spell has been known to wake mages from comas, whether of the magical variety or not.

It's been a long week, and I feel like I could sleep right through until Monday. It feels nice, having Baz right there, knowing he's asleep and not off scheming or plotting against me. For the first time in the last six years I feel completely calm. It’s nice, watching Baz lie there, knowing that he won't wake up any second and ask me what the hell I'm doing staring at him. I don't know if  _ I _ could even answer that. All I know is that lying here, watching Baz's chest rise and fall feels so peaceful , so beautifully empty, that I find myself drifting to sleep.

***

I wake up, and the room is dark. Normally I'd be worried about this fucking up my sleep schedule, but tomorrow's Saturday, and I have plenty of time to fix it. I check the clock on my bedside table. Nine twenty three, nearly six hours since I'd cast that spell on Baz and we'd both fallen asleep. I roll over to check if Baz is still there. The spell only lasts for up to five hours, but if Baz was tired anyway he might've just stayed asleep. And clearly he was, because there he is, still lying exactly as I last saw him.

I never know quite how to feel when I see him like this. My usual hatred for him subsides, I'm not on edge, I don't have to worry about where he might be or what he might be doing. It disorientates me. It turns my world upside down and in doing so sends a wave of light nausea to the pit of my stomach. My mind goes empty, completely empty, like it does when I'm trying to ignore something that won't stop bugging me, but there's nothing  _ to _ bug me now, just Baz. Baz, with his hair that catches in the silvery beams of moonlight, making his skin  _ glow _ with how pale and pristine it is. But he'll be awake soon, so I might as well get up.

I missed dinner for the first time I think  _ ever _ , and I'd say Penny would be worried, but she knows how tired I was. I'm still tired now, but nowhere near as tired as earlier, so I go into the ensuite and switch on the shower. 

I take a long shower, something I only usually do when Baz is out of the room, but he seems out cold so I reckon it's safe to wank. Even if he did wake up, what's the worst he could do? It's not like  _ he _ doesn't do it. I think. Christ, does Baz even wank?  _ Surely _ he does. He's seventeen, he's  _ got  _ to. 

I wonder what he thinks about. I wonder how he does it. How many different ways  _ are _ there even to do it? I probably shouldn't be thinking about this. Baz, wanking. But I can't get the image out of my head, and I'm already half done, so I just keep going.

He's not up when I get out, which I'm definitely glad of, since I don't think I could look him in the eye after what I'd just been picturing. I climb back into bed and lie there for a while, eventually I feel myself falling back to sleep.

***

It's early on Saturday morning, and I roll over to see Baz exactly the same. I'd probably be thinking it was weird if I wasn't so hungry. Skipping dinner was a bad idea, and it's an hour yet until breakfast. I almost wish Baz was awake, just so I had something to do. Being tormented is better than sitting and doing nothing. I suppose I could do my political science essay. I'll do my political science essay.

***

I get to breakfast before anyone else, which is something I haven't done since first year. It's still a bit surreal to sit in here with all this food and no one else there to eat it. But I get over that pretty quick because I'm starving, and the scones are still hot.

It's not too long until the hall is almost full, and Penny finds a seat opposite me.

"I see you've got your appetite back," Penny says, grabbing a piece of toast and slathering it in marmalade, "I was worried yesterday when you didn't show up."

I still have half a scone in my mouth, so I swallow before replying. "I was so tired Pen, I was out cold from the second I got to my room."

She mumbles an agreement through a mouthful of toast, then looks over her shoulder at the rest of the hall.

"What is it?" I say, because she's usually off on one about homework or some book by now.

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering…" She looks thoughtful for a second, "nevermind."

That can only mean one thing, she's decided it's not worth it. Only one subject is apparently 'not worth it' when it comes to Penny, and that subject is Baz. She seems to think his name is some kind of trigger, and whenever it comes up I won't shut up; which is fairly hypocritical of her if I'm honest. She's the one who doesn't shut up,  _ and _ I always have good reason to talk about Baz, even if she won't hear it.

We start talking about my political science essay, which she offers to proof read (which is nice of her), but I decide to just hand it in as is, it's not like I'll get a bad mark either way. I think there are some subjects that the teachers are too scared to fail me at, because I know I'm absolute shit at them. Apparently being the Chosen One has its benefits.

I get back to the room to get my elocution homework (I said I might meet Penny at the library), when I notice that Baz  _ still hasn't moved _ . I might think he was trying to play a trick on me if he didn't look so pale (was he that pale earlier?). I'm almost worried that he's dead, but I can see him breathing so that's  _ something _ . All of a sudden, I realise how stupid it was for me to use my magic on him. There's a reason I don't use magic on other people; there's a reason I barely use it in general. 

I start to panic.

I try to shake him awake, but he doesn't respond. He's limp, so I start to shout his name. I  _ feel _ like I've gone mental, but he's not waking up, and I think I'm crying. I consider using a spell to wake him, but my magic is what got him into this mess, and I’m damned well not making it any worse than it already is.

I wipe the tears from my face, and decide that crying won't help - because it won't - and go to find Penny. As expected, she's in the library.

She stands when she sees the state I'm in.

"Simon! What's wrong? What happened?" She rushes over to me, she's so worried, it must be obvious that I was crying.

"Just… come on, I need your help." I grab her by the wrist and drag her to Mummer's House, I can explain when we get there.

***

We virtually tumble through the door to my room. The second we get in, she closes the door behind us and opens her mouth to speak, before noticing Baz lying asleep on his bed.

"What's going on Simon?" Her voice is a confused whisper.

"I did something bad Pen,  _ really  _ bad."

Her eyes widen in fear. "You haven't… he isn't… dead, is he?"

"No! Or at least… not yet. I just wanted some peace and quiet so I cast 'dreaming' on him." I hope she gets the jist, because I  _ hate _ saying spell names aloud when I'm not casting. Something usually catches fire.

Penny looks at me, more confused than ever. "How is that bad? I'd say it's better conflict resolution than you've ever managed."

"It's bad because now he won't wake up." I say, willing her to understand, "He's been asleep for over twelve hours."

Penny's eyebrows furrow. "And you've already tried to wake him up?" She walks over to look at him, to study him.

"Yeah," I say, then hurriedly add, "not with magic though!"

Penny nods, then tentatively places a hand onto Baz's chest where his shirt is open (isn't that a violation?) and casts. " **_True love's kiss._ ** " Nothing happens.

She looks back at me, and I can tell that she's trying to think, but my breathing shallows and before I know it I'm crying again. 

Penny sits me down on my bed and holds my hand. She's an absolute treasure, and I don't even know  _ why _ I'm crying. I've always known that I'd have to kill him one day, and now that we're in seventh year, and the wars are worse than ever, I suppose I knew that it'd be soon. I never thought about it. I've hurt him before, but I've never done anything that was permanent (except for that bump in his nose). Maybe I'm just scared for myself. What will they do if they find out that I've permanently sedated my roommate?

After a few minutes, I've almost fully calmed down, and Penny is back to thinking.

"I hate to say it Simon," She says, and her voice is cautious, as if she doesn't want to scare me off.

"Say what?" 

"That maybe you've done what you always do."

"And what's that?" I snap back. I feel kind of bad about it, but honestly I just want all of this to be over.

"Your spells… they go quite literally." She's clearly trying to be nice about this, but I don't have the time.

"So?"

"So," She says, and she's obviously choosing her words carefully, "Baz will only wake up with true love's kiss."

I stare blankly at her for a second. "What?"

"True love's kiss, Simon."

"But that  _ doesn't exist _ ."

"I  _ know _ , but magically, a kiss between two people who love each other romantically works too." She says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "So all we need to do is find out who Baz loves."

I give her the most exasperated look I can muster. "What if he doesn't love anyone?"

"That's not how this kind of magic works. Spells based on love only work if the person upon which the spell was cast is in love, and that person loves them back. Trust me Simon, if there wasn't someone out there, your spell would've done basically nothing."

"Great, thanks Pen." I roll my eyes.

"No, this is a good thing! We just need to find whoever this person is, and have them kiss Baz. Simple." And she makes it sound like it is. But how are we going to find this mysterious person without being able to ask Baz? Even if we  _ could _ ask him, what would be the chances he'd tell  _ me _ of all people? I'm his  _ enemy _ , how am I supposed to know who he's in love with?

***

It's lunch, and Penny and I have decided to ask Dev and Niall about it (without mentioning the whole sleeping thing). We finish eating (sandwiches and iced buns), before going over to where Baz usually sits, and plonking ourselves opposite the boys.

"What are  _ you _ doing here Snow," Niall spits, "come to find out where Baz is?"

"No, actually," Says Penny coolly, "But we do want information about him."

Dev glares. "If you've done anything to hurt him, I swear-"

"I haven't!" I answer, a bit too fast and probably a bit too guiltily.

Penny huffs. "We just want to ask you some questions about him, is all." 

"Oh yeah, because we're gonna tell  _ you _ ."

"Yes. You will. Because Simon's explosive and I'm not scared of turning you both into frogs." She smiles, and I glare, which as a combination tends to do the trick.

"All right, fine. What do you want to know?"

"Has Baz got a girlfriend?" I blurt out. Niall bites his lip and looks over at Dev, who's already started laughing. "What's so funny?" I snarl.

"No." Niall says through a snicker, "He doesn't."

I huff, but Penny seems unphased. "Does he have anyone that's anything like that? Anyone he's close to romantically?"

"Doubt it. He hasn't told me." Niall shrugs, then looks over at Dev, who shakes his head, still laughing too much to reply.

I'm fed up with this. They're just taking the piss, and I'm done, so I get up and walk out, already feeling my magic prickling hotly at my skin.

I can hear Penny following me back to my room, but I wish she wouldn't. I feel like I'm going to set something on fire, and I probably am, because I'm starting to smoke. I slam open the door and sit on my bed, head in my hands and will my magic to go back in, for everything to just stop. I look up, and see Baz lying there so fucking peacefully, the tosser. He's at the centre of this mess, and he isn't even conscious to see it. 

"It's alright Simon, it's gonna be alright, we'll find them." She's trying to calm me down, but I just need to stop thinking right now, and her being here isn't helping. I think she can tell, because she turns to leave. "I'll ask around, maybe someone else will know." Then she's gone.

***

When I next look up, there's a light haze filling the room. It's not as bad as I expected, but it's sticky somehow and makes me feel restless. I check to see if Baz is okay - and by that I mean stare at him long enough to make sure he's still breathing - then go into the bathroom so I can have a cold shower.

It always surprises me how much a cold shower seems to help. I know that there's a certain flammable quality to my magic, and an especially smokey one at that (not like Baz's clean fire)(of course his magic  _ has _ to be pristine), so I suppose it makes sense that cold water would cool me down.

Thankfully, when I get back into the room, the haze has gone, and I find myself watching Baz again. I suppose it's just an instinct at this point, after always keeping an eye on him while he's plotting, watching him sleep feels natural somehow. I really  _ do  _ like him like this. Shit, no, that's not what I mean. Or maybe it is. I just… I can't find it in me to hate him. I  _ want _ to find it. Maybe if I found it, the whole situation wouldn't feel so much like someone had just hollowed out my chest. Maybe if I found it, I could just view this as a nice break, as restbite from his endless taunting. But I  _ don't _ hate him, not really. And watching him like this makes me wonder if I ever even did (which is preposterous)(of course I did). 

There's a lock of hair that's lying over one of his eyes, gracing his high cheekbone and ending at his jaw. A part of me wants to walk over and tuck it behind his ear. I don't. He's still Baz after all, even if he is lying there, completely unconscious for the foreseeable future; he's still my nemesis,  _ plus _ there's not even any reason for me to do it. I just  _ want  _ to. Is that weird? It's probably weird.

I realise that I should probably find Penny to see if she's found anything, and to apologise about snapping at her. I find her in the library again. She's reading a book, and I can't tell what it's about and I frankly don't care, I just want Baz to wake up.

"Found anything new?" I say, probably more anxious than I intend, because Penny looks at me like I'm eight and my hamster just died.

"No, I'm sorry Simon. I asked around, but no one's said anything helpful. I've resorted to books, but that's not very helpful so far either."

"Have you talked to Agatha?" I say despite myself. Agatha and I have been on decent terms since we split up, but Baz is  _ definitely _ still not a topic I want to raise with her.

"I don't think there's much point, they don't really talk, as far as I'm aware."

"But he kept…" I'm flustered all of a sudden, and I can't help but remember his taunting about how he'd marry Agatha himself one day, "He kept going on about her. Maybe it's  _ her _ ."

I hate myself for saying it, and I'm almost glad when Penny gives me her ' _ you're being stupid _ ' look. "I'm pretty sure it's not, but if it'll make you feel better then we can ask."

I want to say that there's no point. I want to  _ believe _ that there's no point. But the old jealousy I felt when Baz used to glance over at Agatha when we were dating creeps back, the way his lip curled and he got a twinkle in his deep ocean eyes… "Let's ask her."

***

We find Agatha after dinner, sitting out by the football pitch, leaning against a tree. She has a notebook out, and is sketching mindlessly, drawing birds and nearby trees.

"Hey Agatha," I say, trying to sound calm, maybe even reassuring. She looks up at me and smiles politely, "I just wanted to ask you about something."

"Go ahead." She says, mostly looking at Penny to start speaking. I suppose that makes sense. Penny is  _ usually _ the talker.

When I speak, it seems to catch her off guard. "I want to ask you about Baz." His name feels bitter on my tongue, and her expression stiffens.

"What about him?"

"Are you… with him?"

She rolls her eyes at me as if I've said the stupidest thing, and clearly Penny thinks so too, because they both answer at the same time. "No."

I look from one to the other, totally confused. "Uhm… am I missing something?" 

Agatha shrugs, but Penny huffs dramatically. "Nevermind, just… Baz definitely isn't dating Agatha."

"Well," I say, looking at Agatha, who's trying to return to her drawing, "do you know  _ anything _ about Baz's love life?"

"I barely know the guy." She says, shaking her head, "Sorry, Simon."

"It's okay." I grumble, and I leave her to her drawings.

***

"It's no use!" I'm exhausted, and Penny (bless her) keeps trying to reassure me that everything will be fine.

"We'll find them, it's okay."

"But what if we don't? What if Baz starves to death just lying there and it's all my fault?" I'm almost pulling my hair out with worry.

"Then we'll send him to the infirmary, they have ways of keeping people stable in comas, you know."

My head snaps up and I look at her. "Coma?" It had never occurred to me before, but I had literally put Baz in a  _ coma _ .

"Well, what would you call it?" She looks almost as tired as I am, and I think that we should probably go to sleep.

"I dunno." I lie back on my bed, and I feel every bone in my body sigh with pleasure as I lie down, "But I need some sleep."

"Do you want me to stay?" She's gentle when she wants to be, and now is one of those times.

"No, it's okay, I'll be fine."

***

I've never in my life been simultaneously so tired, and so unable to sleep. It's like every time I think I'm drifting off, I look over as see him - see Baz - lying there, still the same as yesterday.

It’s weird really, because he’s just lying there. He usually has nightmares when he sleeps, usually squirms and sometimes even thrashes about in an oh-so-unlike-Baz manner. Those are the times I consider getting up and accidentally on purpose dropping a pile of books loud enough to wake him. I swear his mouth fills with teeth when he’s having a nightmare, like he’s trying to bite whatever is attacking him. I wonder if he’s dreaming now, or whether I’ve fucked up so badly that he doesn’t even have the capacity anymore.

Penny says he’ll be fine. He  _ will _ be fine. Whoever it is will eventually come looking for him, and then everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.

***

Everything won’t be alright. I wake up and look over at Baz. He’s all wrong. Too grey and too thin, I can’t bear this anymore. I stand next to his bed, his hollow face is so still. His eyelids are gently closed, lips slightly parted. The lock of hair is still draped over his face, and I give in. I lean down and softly (or as softly as I can) tuck it behind his ear. I don’t move my hand away. It’s on the side of his face, my tawny skin in stark contrast to his almost pearlescent grey. He’s beautiful. And I’m just sick of  _ all this shit _ , so I kiss him. 

For a second I’m there, my lips on his, and I’m so engulfed in the moment that I completely forget the circumstances. Then he headbuts me.

  
  


**Baz**

The second I wake up, I feel a bolt of electricity shoot through me, making me sit upright. I look up, and see Snow standing right next to my bed, looking like he’s been punched in the face. Literally. His nose is bloodied and he looks outright betrayed.

“Baz…” He starts, looking dazed and hurt. But my fangs drop the second I inhale, and I realise how hungry I am.  _ Dangerously _ .

I get up and shove Snow out the way with my shoulder, because he’s too close not to, and I’m weak. Every opportunity I get to touch Snow, I take it, even if it  _ is _ just shoving and the odd punch. I walk coolly to the door, but the second I get out I start to sprint. The smell of blood is everywhere in this wretched school, and if I don’t drink now I think I might drain a first year.

I make my way into the forest, because rats just won’t cut it, and it’s early enough for no one to see me go in, even if they  _ do _ see me come out.

I find a deer and drain it, trying my best to stay clean despite how fucking thirsty I am. It’s only once I’ve drained it that I realise how hungry I am too.  _ Crowley _ , I can’t even remember how I got to sleep. 

I’m still in uniform, mainly, and the last thing I remember was Snow storming into our room and interrupting my reading with his general banging. Shit, no wonder I woke up early, I must've fallen asleep at about four. 

I’m pissed off, but I know it’s just because I’m hungry. Breakfast will have started by now, so Snow’ll be out of the room. At least I won’t be snapping at him, I don’t think I can be bothered having him go off right now, everything aches.

I feel heavy, stiff, like I’m literally rusty. The blood helped, Morgana did the blood help. I felt basically dead when I woke up, and now I’m back to my normal amount, well, possibly a little less alive than usual, but that doesn’t  _ really _ matter.

I shower, then change into a pair of maroon trousers I bought over the summer, and a light shirt. I’m glad we don’t have to wear uniform on weekends, I don't think I could cope in polyester all year round.

I go down for breakfast, about half the students have left already, but Snow, of course, is still sitting across the hall with Bunce. He has an overly buttered scone halfway up to his mouth when he catches my eye. I sneer at him, but he doesn’t sneer back. That’s odd. He just stares at me, wide eyed, until Bunce turns around and sees me too. She looks like she’s just seen a ghost. She turns to Simon, and they start to speak in that stupid secret way they do when they’re trying to figure out a plot. 

I sit down with Dev and Niall, who give me strange looks too. 

“Spit it out.” I say, because I don’t have time for any more faffing, I’ve already picked up a piece of toast.

They both look at each other in mild concern, then look back at me. “Where were you yesterday?” Niall blurts.

I give them a look like they’re being complete idiots. Which they are. “In classes? We had elocution together, remember?” 

“Baz, yesterday was Saturday.” Dev’s head is tilted to the side like a confused dog.

“No, it was Friday.”

“No Baz, it was Saturday.”

I look over at Snow, who keeps stealing glances at me; which would be normal, bar the expression on his face. It’s open and curious, and something about it pulls at the pit of my stomach. 

Even though I have no idea what they’re on about, I decide there’s no point in arguing. “Oh, right, of course. Sorry chaps.”

“Where were you?” Niall presses, “Snow and Bunce came asking questions about you, weird ones.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What kind of questions?”

Dev intescets. “They wanted to know if you had a girlfriend.” Both he and Niall stifle a laugh.

I roll my eyes. “And did you tell them?”

“Well yeah,” Dev admits, “they’re a pretty scary pair.”

I huff, because  _ of course _ they told them. I don’t have time for this, so I grab a stack of buttered toast and tell them I’ve got homework, which I do.

I spend basically all day in the room, as I said, doing homework, since I now only have half a weekend to do it. Sitting in this room always feels like I’m ruining myself, letting myself just sit and smell Simon in the air. A breeze comes in through the window, and I close it (the window), but not before it sweeps over Simon’s bed and reaches me. It smells different to how he usually is around me. When he’s around me he’s a roaring bonfire, but the actual smell of him is calmer, like a dying campfire. This morning was  _ torture _ . Him standing so close, and  _ bleeding _ nonetheless. 

I was asleep for all of Saturday. That’s difficult to process, but from what Dev and Niall said, and from how Simon was looking at me all through breakfast, he has something to do with it. 

I say asleep, but  _ missing _ is a better word for it. I  _ say _ asleep, because it’s the only conclusion I can come to, since I woke up exactly as I was on Friday.

***

Snow was no better at lunch, or at dinner, and I’m starting to wonder what’s gotten into him. He keeps looking at me like I mean something. Something more than just his ‘evil roommate’, which I most certainly am not. Yes, I’m his roommate, and  _ yes _ I will admit that I haven’t exactly been pleasant to him, but evil is a bit far. In the early days, when I first knew him, when I first  _ felt _ something for him, it was all just pulling at pigtails. But we got older, and I started to genuinely hate him, hate him for hating me, when I couldn’t hate him myself. Which I know is counterintuitive, but what can I say? By the end of last year I gave up. I decided that hating him just for the sake of it wasn’t worth it, of course I still tease him, he’s an idiot and a git, but an idiot and a git that I wish could be mine.

Snow hasn’t been in the room all day, and I’m glad of it. In the past he’s made it his mission to follow me around, so having him keep a normal distance today has been a breath of fresh air. Having him walk in, however, looking defeated and disheartened is somehow worse.

“What’s got you so glum, Snow?” I hate the spite that’s in my voice, but I know it’s the best way to keep myself from sounding like I care.

“It’s…” And he looks at me with those big blue eyes, “It’s nothing.”

He sits on his bed, his head in his hands and sighs. 

“What did you do to me?” I spit, because apparently I have no restraint, and at least if I ask now he’s not going to set me on fire.

“You were just asleep, alright?” He looks hurt, but I know there’s something more he wants to say.

“For a whole day? I don’t think so.”

“I spelled you.” He sounds upset, and then he brings his hands up to his hair and starts to rake through his bronze curls. “I spelled you ‘dreaming’, but it went wrong. Is that what you want to hear?” His face has gone red, but he’s not angry. “I fucked up, and Penny and I, we couldn’t-” He stops suddenly, as if scared that his next words would physically hurt to say.

“You couldn't  _ what _ , Snow?” I say, because I’m a prick who doesn’t know when to stop.

Snow goes quiet and looks down at his hands now in his lap. “We couldn’t find the right person.”

Now  _ I’m  _ frustrated. Could he  _ be _ any less clear? “You’re not making any sense.”

“True love’s kiss!” He shouts. He looks scared, and has gone bright red. “My spell went wrong, and we could only wake you with a kiss from someone you loved who loved you back.” By the time he finishes he’s standing, pacing in front of me.

I freeze, because I’m not sure what he’s trying to say, or maybe I just can’t believe what he  _ is _ saying. “Simon, what are you-” But I’m stopped by the sudden feeling of his hands on my face and his lips on mine.

  
  


**Simon**

I don’t know why I do it. Okay, maybe I  _ do _ know why, but I don’t know why  _ now _ . Actually, no, fuck that. I do it because I want to, and I _ know _ he feels the same… somehow. All day I haven’t been able to take my mind off him, well, more than usual (and in a different way). I didn’t  _ know _ I liked him, let alone  _ loved _ him, but I suppose I do. The more I thought about it, the more came to me and  _ now _ … now, I’m kissing him. And he’s kissing me back.

It’s messy, and rough, but I like it. No, I don’t just like it, this is  _ everything _ . Kissing  _ Baz _ is everything. For a moment, I think about what it was like to kiss Agatha, and really it doesn’t even compare. This is chaos that doesn’t care about going wrong.

All of a sudden, Baz is pushing me off him. He’s out of breath, and he motions to my neck. I suddenly remember about my cross, so I take it off and put it in my bedside table drawer before resuming.

This time is different. It’s not unexpected, so the messy chaos is replaced with a needy hunger. We’re both sitting on his bed now, and my hands have made their way into his hair. Fucking hell his hair is smooth, and it just slips through my fingers like it’s made of silk. His lips are soft, but they’re not warm, it’s kind of weird kissing something room temperature, but I like it.  _ Fuck _ , I love it all. His mouth opens slightly (maybe to speak?) but I stop him before he does anything else and I let my tongue slip in. His hands find my waist and he pulls me closer, pulls me  _ on top of him _ , straddling his lap. 

I pull back and grin, because I’m  _ finally _ taller than him. I think he knows what I’m thinking, and he laughs. He  _ laughs _ and it’s gorgeous. It’s not cruel or spiteful, it’s just happy.  _ Shit _ , when was the last time I even saw Baz happy like this? Have I  _ ever _ seen him happy like this? I lean back in, and feel his smile on my mouth. I keep carding my fingers through his hair because  _ his hair _ … it’s so him. It’s stunning and graceful, and probably smells great. Since when did I think Baz smelled great? I don't know, I just want to smell his hair.

I decide to do exactly that. I run my hand through his hair one last time before detaching my face and burying it in his hair.

“What are you doing, Snow?” And it has none of the malice it usually carries.

My voice is muffled by his hair (which does smell just as good as expected by the way)(maybe even better). “You called me Simon earlier.” 

“No I didn’t.” He says, and I’m about to argue when he pulls me back down by the back of my neck and into another kiss.

  
  


**Baz**

As I continue to kiss - well, snog - Simon, it occurs to me what must’ve happened this morning. Call me slow, or stupid, or whatever you like, but  _ you _ try to piece together a conclusion while making out with the guy you’ve wanted for  _ years _ . Crowley, I’ve wanted this for so long. I never thought this would  _ actually _ happen, but here I am, and here he is, and it’s  _ him _ . It’s so  _ him _ . His smokey smell and his scorching heat, his rough palms and slightly chapped lips. And this morning he kissed me and I  _ headbutted _ him. Great snakes, I’m an idiot. But I want him. I want  _ this _ .

He pulls away, and for a moment I think I’ll get to see his face again. Smiling, and warm, and so full of light. Instead he does something almost better. He starts to kiss (suck, really) at my neck. He’d be leaving marks if I had enough blood in me to do that. When he gets to the crook of my neck, I let out a small moan. I didn’t mean to, but it happened, and the way Snow’s responding to it erases any regrets I had about it.

He pulls himself further onto me, closer, and now I can feel his warmth more than ever, feel his chest against mine and his…

“Snow,” I say suddenly, because I’m self destructive like that, “are you… hard?”

He stops suddenly, pulling back and looking down, completely horrified. “Oh my god Baz, fuck, I’m so sorry.” He keeps rambling apologies as he starts to climb off me, but I pull him back towards me and look him in the face.

He won’t make eye contact, and his face has gone redder than a cherry. “Simon.” He looks up at that, and I smile at him, because  _ how could I not?  _ “I’m not going to make you leave just because of  _ that _ .”

He tilts his head a little to the side like an overgrown dog. “You’re not?”

“No. Crowley, if I had enough blood in me I would have been hard the second you got on my lap.” I just realise that I  _ may _ have just admitted to Snow that I’m a vampire, but he hasn’t made a thing out of it, and he basically already knew, so I think it’s okay.

I think it’s going to be okay. Actually okay. Because Snow has wrapped his arms around me in a big hug, and he doesn’t want to let go. And he loves me. Merlin and Morgana, he loves me.

***

We snog for a bit longer, and I hold him in my arms; but it’s late, and we’re both tired. I think it’s been a long day for both of us, and for the first time, I’m glad that Snow doesn’t wear a top to bed. 

We both get ready for bed, and somehow, after slipping into  _ the same bed as Snow _ , I end up as the little spoon. I suppose it makes sense, not height wise, but in the way that he is. He’s always been very protective of his friends, and now I suppose that extends to me, though I don’t quite know  _ what _ we are. I decide not to dwell, because I’m wrapped in Snow’s arms, and I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I was twelve.

“Good night Snow.”

“Simon.” He mumbles, and I can feel his breath in my hair.

I roll my eyes, but smile all the same. “Good night Simon.” 

I feel a gentle kiss to the back of my neck, and hear his voice so quietly that only I could hear it. “Night Baz, love you.” 

I think he’s probably half asleep already, but I don’t care. I grin. “Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a soppy ending for you all :)


End file.
